


"Shall Yourselves Find Blessing

by farad



Series: Christmas Carols [6]
Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 00:47:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farad/pseuds/farad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>December 26, morning</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Shall Yourselves Find Blessing

**Author's Note:**

> Set the Christmas after "Obsession"; unbetaed so surely full of typos. Thanks also to Zeke Black and her awesome Magnificent Seven Handbook, with transcripts, pictures of the clothes the boys wore, and every thing else, and the people at Daybook for their quick answers to my specific detail needs! All mistakes my very own.

" _ **In his master's steps he trod**_

_**Where the snow lay dinted** _

_**Heat was in the very sod** _

_**Which the Saint had printed** _

_**Therefore, Christian men, be sure** _

_**Wealth or rank possessing** _

_**Ye who now will bless the poor** _

_**Shall yourselves find blessing"** _

 

\--from "Good King Wenceslas", verse four,

written by John Mason Neale and published in 1853.

St. Stephen's feast day, referred to in the first verse, was celebrated on

26th December which is why this song is sung as a Christmas song.

 

 

Despite the long day yesterday, getting up at dawn for Josiah's morning service after being up late Christmas Eve for the Midnight Mass, despite all the food he'd eaten yesterday, and all the brandy Ezra had plied him with last night, JD still woke early on the 26th.

 

He hadn't wanted to. Not this year. He sighed, closed his eyes and rolled over in the bed, snuggling further into the blankets. One of them brushed at his cheek, soft and smelling clean, of washpowder and lavender. Just like his ma . . .

 

He rolled back over, pushed off the blankets and let himself believe that the tears in his eyes were because of the sudden chill. It was going to be another cold day. He rolled out of bed, jumping when his bare feet hit the cold wood floor. There was a rug, a throw rug, that had worked its way under the bed. Again.

 

He moved over to the small coal grate, stirring the embers from the night before and adding a few more. He didn't have to use it often, but this past week had been cold enough that he'd splurged and bought some coal. It was as much for the memory as for the heat; his chores as a boy had included cleaning out the coal ash in most of the servants' rooms, and it made him feel more at home.

 

As the fire re-ignited, he stood near it, warming his hands. He could dress, but that would mean the day was starting. And the morning of the 26th, Boxing Day, was supposed to start late. After presents, after morning tea and toast, with jam and cream, and thick sliced cheese.

 

And his mother's special presents, just for him.

 

He swallowed hard, trying not to think about that last Boxing Day together. She'd been sick then, only they hadn't realized how sick.

 

JD shook his head, frustrated with himself. Last year hadn't been this hard, last year, the first year without her, hadn't felt as lonely or as empty. Why this year, he wondered, why was he going all soft and acting like a kid?

 

He turned away from the grate, collecting his clothes from the day before. His pants were fine, but he needed a fresh shirt – in fact, it was time to get some of his clothes to the Chinese laundry, get them washed and pressed. They would be open today, he could go ahead and get that done.

 

With that to concentrate on, he moved around the room, gathering up the things that needed washing and stuffing them into a large flour sack he kept just for that purpose. He added his pajamas to it last, then washed as well as he could and put on what he had that was clean. Then he made the bed, banked the coal fire, strapped on his gun, grabbed up his hat and the bag, and headed out the door.

 

It was a day, just like any other day – well, just like any other day after Christmas. Out here, in this part of the world, Boxing Day didn't mean what it had back home. Here, people didn't work on Christmas – he'd seen that yesterday. Instead, they'd gotten up, gone to the early morning service at the church, then spent the afternoon at a town feast, everyone contributing food and gifts. Last year, the very idea had surprised JD, and he'd been overwhelmed by the way the entire town turned out – well, most of it. Chris and Vin hadn't come, which was a disappointment, but not a surprise. He'd been warned by Buck that Chris couldn't bear the season, and JD could understand why. Vin had been a surprise, but only a little more so. Josiah had tried to explain that one, about Vin's need to get away and reflect on things.

 

This year, though, no one had had to explain. What a year.

 

He was reminded of it as he hefted up his laundry sack, the skin of his belly pulling. His bullet wound hadn't been as bad as Chris', though it had been bad. It had taken him almost a month to get back on his feet, which Nathan said was due in large part to the blood loss.

 

Chris had lost so much blood by the time Nathan got the bullet out that for two months, he could barely move off the porch. He was a lot better, but JD still thought he was too pale. Nathan might have thought that too, from the way he'd look at Chris every so often and shake his head. But he didn't say anything, not anything much, not any more. JD had noticed that, too.

 

There wasn't a lot of movement yet in the house, though he could smell the coffee and biscuits Mrs. Holzer made for breakfast, part of the 'room and board'. He made his way on out the door quietly, preferring the biscuits at the restaurant, which he suspected Mrs. Holzer knew. Hers were a little salty and a lot hard compared to Mrs. Adele's.

 

None of them, though, were as good as his momma's tea and toast and jam – raspberry, something he had almost forgotten the taste of. Hard to find it out here.

 

It was chillier outside, as he'd expected, and he pulled his coat tighter around himself as he stepped out the back door – and almost slid down. Ice, of course, as there had been yesterday. He should have been expecting it.

 

Then he smiled. Ice was like it was back home. On Boxing Day, there'd be snow, too, usually enough to sled on, which they could do on Boxing Day. Snow.

 

He moved carefully onto the dirt road, where the ice was thinner this morning. It crunched under foot as he made his way along. It was late enough that there were a few people already out and about, some coming out of the hotel. He walked down the side street, smelling the soap and seeing the steam from the laundry which, as he expected, was already a-bustle with people.

 

Mr. Li, the owner, took his bag, emptying it onto the table and counting the items: five shirts, two pair of pants, three sets of long-handles, one vest, five pairs of socks, and the laundry bag itself. JD nodded his agreement, putting down the first half of the price.

 

"Be ready later today," the man said with a nod. Or JD thought he did. He was still learning to hear past the strange accent.

 

"Thanks," JD said, taking the little piece of paper that served as his claim ticket.

 

As he made his way back toward the main street, more people greeted him, more shops were open – just another day in the world, the day after Christmas. But everyone was still happy, and most of the decorations were still in place. Here, there were no servants, no people who worked at the will of other people – well, not many. Here, most people worked for themselves.

 

He nodded to Tiny, who was carrying two mugs of steaming coffee toward the livery, and then to Mr. Watson who was coming out of the restaurant. Inside, it was crowded, but a voice from the back called out, "JD! Got a seat over here."

 

Ezra sat at a small table in the back, drinking coffee and finishing off his breakfast. A book was open beside him, but he had called JD over, so JD assumed that he wanted the company. It was awful early for Ezra to be out and about; maybe it was too early for him to be reading the big words and bigger ideas he seemed to favor. JD had tried to read one of his books once, something about wealth by one of those financiers. He hadn't made it through the first chapter.

 

"You're up awfully early," he said as he came up to the table. "You were still playing cards when I left at midnight."

 

Ezra smiled, his gold tooth flashing. He was wearing a brown jacket this morning, not as bright as the ones he'd been wearing the past few days. "I was asked to assist with a late holiday celebration today, so I thought I'd start early," Ezra said. "And it does pay, sometimes, to rise with the sun. Or somewhat close to it."

 

"My ma always said that you could get more done when others were asleep, 'cause you weren't having to be distracted by their wants." He could almost hear the words in his mind, her voice light, her lips smiling.

 

"A very wise woman," Ezra agreed. "My own mother had similar ideas."

 

JD grinned, thinking on Ezra's mother. It was hard to think of the two of them, his and Ezra's, in the same light.

 

"Has it been a good Christmas for you?" Ezra asked, picking up his coffee mug.

 

JD thought about it, long enough for Maybelle, the waitress, to come along and bring JD a cup of coffee, refill Ezra's cup from the pot, and to tell JD she'd be right back with his order – which was kind of confusing as he hadn't placed one yet. But then, there wasn't that much on the menu, and this time of the day, it was possible that he didn't really have a choice. He'd been in here from time to time when the only things left were bacon and toast made from yesterday's bread.

 

He didn't mind – it was never bad. Better than the boarding house biscuits.

 

But it was Boxing Day, a voice reminded him. Not just any day, a day for him and his mom.

 

"JD?" Ezra asked, reminding JD where he was. "Are you unwell?"

 

JD shook his head, as much to clear it as in answer. "Yeah, it's been a good Christmas. I just wish . . ." He wished so many things, all of them crowding into his mouth at the same time.

 

"It's been a very hard year," Ezra said softly, "but then, you know that as well as the rest of us, perhaps more so."

 

It was so much like what Josiah had said Christmas Eve that JD wondered if he was that obvious. "I'm all right," he said, worried that Ezra was thinking he was still too young, still a kid.

 

"I didn't mean to imply otherwise," Ezra said with a shrug. "But you almost died from a gunshot wound, you accidentally killed a woman, and like the rest of us, you almost lost someone else you care about, someone who is still trying to find his own way out of a mire of grief, anger, and guilt."

 

JD swallowed. He'd tried his best not to think about Annie, though he'd found himself visiting her gravesite after the midnight service on Christmas Eve, and again yesterday. He'd been relieved when Hiram Neuhaus had married Ila Walker from over near Eagle Bend. At least the Neuhaus children had someone tending them.

 

"You think Chris is going to be all right?" he asked, wanting to stop the thoughts about Annie, about the wrong he could never put right.

 

Ezra leaned forward, looking out the window. "Guilt is a strange bedfellow," he said quietly. "One can see it so clearly, yet there is so little one can actually do about it, except try very hard never to make the same mistake again. It is a constant reminder, though, of that mistake, which, in a certain light, makes it a good thing, yes?"

 

JD shook his head. "Seems like you're saying that Chris can't ever love a woman again."

 

Ezra smiled, but it wasn't a real smile. "Well, it might not be wise while Ella Gaines yet lives," he said coldly. "To a certain degree, though, I think it's good that he hasn't found her yet. It will give him some time to put perspective on his guilt."

 

JD nodded, though he wasn't sure he agreed. Seemed like Chris would be better if the woman had died that day, if Vin hadn't missed her, if Chris himself had been able to take the shot. But thinking that, today of all days, made him a little queasy. "I just hope everything works out," JD said with a sigh. "You think he'll come back to town soon?"

 

Ezra's smile was softer this time and his tone warmer. "I think I would bet on it - and you know I don't like to gamble. Everything will be all right, JD, it's already well on it's way." He looked past JD and JD turned to see Maybelle bringing him a tray of food – a tray?

 

"Special, for you on this fine December 26th," Maybelle announced as she put in front of him a plate of toast, browned to a perfect crispiness. Then a small plate of cheese – rich white cheddar, the way it was made in Vermont. Then a small bowl of fresh cream, and then a jar of red jam, which smelled to be -

 

"Raspberry?" he choked out, lifting it up to take a deeper whiff. "Where did you get - "

 

"I believe those ladies there," Ezra said, gesturing casually to the window.

 

It took JD a few seconds to focus, his attention fixed on the jam, the smell of it, rich and sweet, like Boxing Day, like his mother. When he could see through the haze of memory, he saw Mary, Mrs. Potter, and Nettie Wells bundled up in their winter coats, standing on the boardwalk outside, smiling at him. He waved, or tried to; both hands were still holding the jar, and he managed to smudge jam on the end of his nose instead.

 

But as he put down the jar and wiped at his nose with a white linen napkin – when had Maybelle given him that? - he realized someone was missing.

 

"Happy Boxing Day!" a new voice said from behind him and he turned and stood up as Casey rushed up to him, her cheeks and nose red and her eyes bright as Christmas itself. "Is it all right?"

 

"Is it – is it - " He couldn't get the words to form, to come out in any way she could understand.

 

"I believe he means that it's quite unexpected," Ezra said for him. "And very much appreciated."

 

Casey looked past JD to Ezra, her smile growing. When she looked back at JD, she said, "Aunt Nettie made the jam herself – I'm learning, but it was so hard to get the raspberries, and we didn't have enough to make a mistake, so she made it. It smelled heavenly – does it taste all right? We weren't sure if there should be other things in it. Mary said something about adding lemon, and Gloria suggested ginger - "

 

"Plain," JD managed to stammer out. "Just plain old raspberries. It's perfect." He hugged her close, startled by the touch of her cold nose against his throat.

 

"JD!" she gasped out, but she was laughing, too.

 

"As I said," Ezra said, rising, "I believe he is very appreciative. And on that note, I believe I will leave the two of you to enjoy this wonderful Boxing Day breakfast. I have several other errands to run, a few Boxing Day presents of my own to distribute. JD, I highly recommend the cheese – it's one of my favorites." He had put on his coat and picked up his hat, but he held the chair out for Casey, as a gentleman should.

 

It reminded JD of his own manners and he let her go, helping her slid out of her coat.

 

"Thank you, Ezra," she said, leaning up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "For all the help putting this together."

 

He tipped his hat at her and smiled. "This time of the year, one should remember the important things from the past, don't you think?" He was looking at JD.

 

JD nodded. "The good things, and the bad," he said, "so you don't make the same mistakes."

 

Ezra tilted his head in agreement, then made his way for the door. But as he passed, he said, "It will be a better year this year. We have all learned much that we will not forget."

 

JD watched him leave, thinking about Chris and Vin. They would be back.

 

Then Casey tugged at his hand and said, "So are you going to show me how to eat this? Oh! And Maybelle is bringing us tea, too!"

 

JD looked at her and smiled. When her eyes sparkled like this, she reminded him of his ma. In the good ways.

 


End file.
